


Detention

by inkforhumanhands



Series: Daredevil Ficlets [5]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ficlet, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkforhumanhands/pseuds/inkforhumanhands
Summary: Foggy gets sent to detention on the first day of school and meets a fellow troublemaker.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Series: Daredevil Ficlets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880257
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

> written to fill the prompt "high school AU" for writer's month 2020

Foggy dropped his backpack beside his chair and immediately slumped down in his seat to bury his head in his arms. He was a good kid, or at least that’s the statement that prefaced every meeting that ever took place between his teachers and his parents. What generally followed was the concern that he just couldn’t seem to shut up when it mattered.

It was just his luck that his motor mouth had picked a teacher he’d never had before as its audience, and on the first day of the year to boot. Not that he felt all that inclined to wager more time spent together might endear him to Mr. Ballinger. The guy looked like he ate Foggys for breakfast only to chew them up and spit them out later in some gastronomic version of the good-kid-to-detention pipeline.

Whatever, since he was bound to be here alone (who else was getting detention on _the first day_?), at least he could probably squeeze in a nap unbothered. He nestled deeper into the cushion his arms made on the desk. Wait. But there _had_ been somebody already here when he walked in, hadn’t there? He’d just been stewing too hard in resentment to notice.

Foggy lifted his head ever so slightly and caught a jean-clothed leg in his peripheral. Good God, he’d sat right next to him in his stupor like some kind of idiot who didn’t respect the “sit as far away as possible from the next human” rule of detention. He briefly considered taking his backpack and relocating before things got too awkward. But no, that would probably make things even worse. And, he realized, he hadn’t even gotten a proper look to make sure it wasn’t someone he knew, although it was true he didn’t recognize the shoes.

Foggy sat up, first feigning interest in the windows across the classroom before—what he thought was naturally—turning his eyes in his head toward his companion. Holy shit, it was the blind kid. He’d only ever seen him in the hallways freshman year, and only then if the classroom Foggy was leaving and the one the blind kid was heading for were close together; apparently they let him leave early to dodge the rush of students he’d otherwise find himself in.

Those glimpses and the gross comments Foggy overheard from girls saying wasn’t he so tragic, and wouldn’t it be nice to have a boyfriend who really _needed_ you were the only contact he’d had. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know his name. Now there was no danger of his being caught staring, though, those girls had been on to one thing at least: he was cute.

As if he’d been waiting for Foggy to let down his guard precisely so he could scare the bejesus out of him, the kid spoke. “So what’d they nab you for?”

“Uh. Oh, you know,” Foggy said, deciding to play it cool.

“Is that an invitation to guess?”

“Sure.” Foggy shrugged in a display that was supposed to indicate that he had nothing better to do. It indicated absolutely nothing to his conversation partner, who couldn’t see it.

“Okay, uh.” The kid paused to think. “You snuck into the science lab and let out all the frogs like in E.T.”

Foggy snorted. “Wrong,” he said.

The kid smiled and then offered a second guess, obviously not daunted by a single failure. “You brought a harmonica to class and wouldn’t stop playing it.”

“That’s closer, at least. Replace the harmonica with my loud mouth.”

“Ah, a talker.” The kid nodded sagely.

“Yeah.” An awkward silence expanded between them as Foggy apparently forgot how to do what he was so good at. “Oh,” he said, when he remembered. “What are you in for, uh…?”

“It’s Matt.”

“Cool. I’m Foggy.”

“Pledge of allegiance,” Matt said.

“Huh? What, like, you wouldn’t stop repeating it, or…?”

Matt shook his head. “I wouldn’t stand for it and my homeroom teacher wasn’t so happy about that. It’s going to take a lot more than one detention to reform me, though,” he said, and was it Foggy’s imagination or did he say it darkly?

Foggy didn’t really get it. “But why? Why wouldn’t you stand?”

Matt breathed in slowly and deliberately, and combined with what he said next it gave off the impression that beneath his unassuming exterior was an ember permanently one gentle breeze away from flaring into a forest fire. “I’ll stand when all the injustice stops.”

Foggy shivered.

Just then, Mr. Evans, the math teacher apparently in charge of that day’s detention, walked in with his travel mug. “Alright, sorry I’m late. Had a bit of a run-in with the coffee maker in the staff room. Who’ve we got today? Just Nelson and Murdock, eh? Okay, you guys know the drill. No talking. Do your homework if you have any. Let’s get these fifty minutes over with without any complaining and it will be more pleasant for us all.”

Foggy looked back at Matt, who had a sour look on his face, he hoped because he too had wanted to continue their conversation. Foggy wanted to know more about this “injustice” he spoke of. Should he be sitting for the pledge too? He had a feeling Matt could have convinced him with barely another sentence out of his mouth. Too bad Matt wouldn’t be able to read notes even if he tried to pass him one when Mr. Evans was looking away. How hard would it be to learn Braille, he wondered.


End file.
